


you'll be dead again tomorrow (but in dreams you live)

by LostMyHeartToHim



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst, Don't talk to me, I Don't Even Know, I hate myself, I'm Sorry, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 08:30:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostMyHeartToHim/pseuds/LostMyHeartToHim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was asleep while you were dying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you'll be dead again tomorrow (but in dreams you live)

**Author's Note:**

> There's something wrong with me. You can help by leaving me a review. :)

His captain is dead. After all the things they had been through, he could have never imagined that something so unimaginative as death could steal that impossible man, who beat all the odds, away from him. He stares at the empty screen in front of him, like waiting for his captain to appear and tell him that this is all some kind of twisted human humour. The screen stays empty, so he destroys it with his bare hands, terrible pain tearing him from the inside. It feels like a black-hole had suddenly opened on his side.

Later, he he goes through his possessions, looking for a tiny metal pendant. He knows he has put it somewhere, he just cannot recall where. When he finally founds it, he clutches it against his torso with shaking hands, slumps on the floor and listens to a death man singing him a happy birthday _(If there is any true logic to the universe, we'll end up on that bridge again someday)_ , over and over again.

 

~o~

In the funeral he does not speak, simply stares at the empty casket in front of him. Jim would have despised this, he thinks, letting his eyes roam over the thousand headed crowd, who had came to see the funeral of the lost hero. He wants to get annoyed at the shameless reporters and curious bystanders amongst the true grievers. But he cannot feel anything, like the death of his captain had somehow worked as a catalyst for his kolinarh. The doctor is not here, he had insisted it would only be filled with hypocrites and strangers who did not really know Jim. When he hears two young ladies sitting two rows behind him speculating about his and Jim's relationship, he founds himself agreeing.

_(Are you sure you don't know what irritation is, mister Spock?)_

 

~o~

Since then there seems to be a permanent ache that accompanies him no matter what he does or where he goes. At first, he tries to meditate it away but it will not vanish. Eventually he accepts it and moves on with his life, though the feeling of loss never leaves him.

He finds it hard to find a purpose for himself. He feels lost, like he is not complete.  
 _(Is he important to you, more important than anything? Is he…as though he were a part of you?)_  
He recognises the illogic of those thoughts but he cannot shake them. He focuses his attention on working with making a peace between Romulans and Vulcans. But he cannot silence the voice inside his head, that tells him that he does not belong, not anymore

~o~

The second time the call comes he is asleep and the alarm wakes him. He listens silently through Captain Picard's explanation of Nexus and Sonar and how his Jim had died again as he had lived, as a hero. He expresses his gratitude for his call and disconnects. He sits down at the chair facing the comm unit and curls his fingers against his palms. He stays there, unmoving, until dawn. _(Happy birthday, Spock)_

~o~

"I have no regrets," he tells the android. But the truth is that he regrets many things, the biggest one being that he never told him what he should truly have said. He had been too busy trying to suppress his feelings that he did not realize what was more important _(Spock, why fight so hard to be a part of only one world? Why not fight instead to be the best of both?)_. So he had held his feelings inside of himself. He feels guilty.

Guilt is a horrible thing to feel. He feels guilty for not being there for him, for not having made peace with himself sooner, for everything he made his ashayam go trough. The most troubling aspect of guilt is that he cannot use logic to make his guilt go away. Instead, it becomes one more set of weight on his tired shoulders.

~o~

_(Has it occurred to you that there's a certain...inefficiency in constantly questioning me on things you've already made up your mind about?)_  


Every night since the incident abroad Enterprise-B, when he closes his eyes at night, he sees sparkling almond eyes staring back at him. His breathing comes irregular and moisture gathers on the corners of his eyes. For a moment he feels a warm body lying next to him. Every night, Spock forces himself to relax and lets the pain wash over him in waves. When he has calmed enough, he closes his eyes again and succumbs to sleep. When he wakes, he prepares for the day, distant memory of a warm laughter accompanying him.

_(It gives me emotional security)_

~o~

Vulcans' do not dream. He repeats it like a mantra in his head until he himself believes it.

~o~

Then comes the mission in Romulus where he desperately tries to stop the star from destroying the planet. He clenches his fist around the pendant when his destruction seems inevitable, hoping against all logic that now he will see him anew. But he doesn't die _(Why, mister Spock, you almost make me believe in miracles)_ and he is alone again.

Nero founds him drifting and deserts him on the ground of the ice gold planet, leaving him helplessly to watch his home-planet collapse on itself.

~o~

_(Interesting. Where would you estimate we belong, Miss Keeler?)_

There he founds him again, in a frozen cave on Delta Vega. He knows immediately that this is not the man he knew. This young man is more troubled and even more lonely than the man he loved. He also has the bluest eyes he has ever seen instead of the special golden-brown. And yet, he reaches his hand, wanting to feel that extraordinary mind once more.

_(You? At his side, as if you've always been there and always will.)_

~o~

"Because you needed each other. I could not deprive you of the revelation of all that you could accomplish together, of a friendship that will define you both in ways you cannot yet realize." He sees the disbelief in his young counterparts' face and desperately hopes that he will not make the same mistakes he made. He remembers well how he was at that age. So sure of the importance of logic and so desperate to prove himself to be a worthy Vulcan even though he had rejected the place in the Vulcan Science Academy.

"Spock, in this case, do yourself a favor: Put aside logic. Do what feels right," He wishes that someone had told him so when he was at the same age. When he had met Jim Kirk it had been too late. Fortunately, Jim had been nothing if not stubborn.  
"Since my customary farewell would appear oddly self-serving, I shall simply say..." He raises his hand in ta'al, "Good luck."

_(Captain, you almost make me believe in luck)_

~o~

Sometimes at night he wanders around his house on New Vulcan. In the light of the two moons he lets himself remember. He recalls every moment with a perfect clarity. Every touch, every look, every word ever exchanged between them.

_(You're the closest to the captain in the whole universe_

_This simple feeling is beyond V'ger's comprehension_

_I have and always shall be yours_

_Live long and prosper_

_Spock)_

_(Spock)_

_(Spock)_

He feels a single tear falling from his cold cheek. It is soon followed by others. He does not try to stop them. He looks up at the two moons shining brilliantly against the night sky, recalling the day over one hundred years ago when he had raised his face towards almost the same sky, having just heard his t'hy'la's thoughts from sixteen light-years away. He closes his eyes and breathes.

_(Your name is.. Jim?_

Yes)

**Author's Note:**

> I was asleep while you were dying.  
> It’s as if you slipped through some rift, a hollow  
> I make between my slumber and my waking,
> 
> the Erebus I keep you in, still trying  
> not to let go. You’ll be dead again tomorrow,  
> but in dreams you live.
> 
> Myth by NATASHA TRETHWEY


End file.
